Running Away
by Graffiti-ferret
Summary: Alfred is tired of the constant abuse from his parents. His depression becomes worse, turning him mute. After his mother threatens to kill him for the thrid time he runs away to New York City. There he meets police officers Arthur Kirkland and Francis Bonnefoy. Somehow, Alfred's life seemes to get better. A.U Mentions of Child abuse/molestation. Emotional stuff. NOT Yaoi.


Hey guys, it's Bright with another story. I should be working on MG but RL is just been horrible. Anyways. The beginning part is based off of personal experiences. So please, no flaming. The second part is made up. Anyways, read and review.

Warning: This story contains child abuse, child molestation, depressive topics, and other things that may be triggering to some. Please read with caution.  
Also, there's most likely no yaoi in this story. Mainly a Police!Arthur and Runaway!Alfred friendship.  
Disclaimer; I don't own Hetalia.

They were at it again. The bickering and fighting. All their yelling echoed up to his room. Blue eyes stared holes into the door from behind their glasses. Alfred let out a sigh. He knew exactly what his parents were arguing about. He knew because he himself was the cause. Despite being a relatively smart kid, Alfred's grades in school haven't been that great.

Geometry: 64 or below. Earth Science: 65 or below. English: 65 to 70. Global: 65 to 70.

His minor classes were amazing thou. All 80s and 100s. But that was only because they weren't major classes. Art, Web Design, Health, and Gym. They were relatively easy. Something he could do. Little to no homework, easy assignments, simple tests. The works.

Alfred couldn't help it thou. He could go for extra help, however a vast majority of the teachers are male. Being alone in a room with a guy wasn't the best idea for someone like him. Someone with Androphobia, the fear of men. Sure, he could find a friend to go with him so his anxiety wouldn't arise. Yet he didn't have one. Yeah, he had some bros Alfred hanged out with. However, they were only acquaintances. Strictly name bases. He couldn't find himself telling them anything. Nothing. Not about his parents, his hatred of people touching him, and most importantly his phobia. He was forced to suck up their bro hugs and pats on the back. It took all his will power to not flinch. Still, there were some friends he had that were girls, but everyone was so stereotypical. If he was to hang out with them too long, they'd question his sexuality. Which he didn't need on top of everything else.

The teen was slipping into depression. Or well, had been for several years. Every time he had seen how low his text grades had gotten, lowest being in the 30s, they chipped away at his confidence. And the mindset that had grown bigger over the years seemed to make it worse. Probably since 2nd grade he'd do his homework less and less. Hell, he's even cheated on spelling tests back then. Now, Alfred was laughing at everything bad, turning it into a joke. He'd even pull out his 'hero' act, saying a hero like him didn't need good grades to save the day. But that was just a facade. A mere cover-up for his true feelings. That way no one would see who he truly was. How everything effected him. It wasn't until 5th grade that it seemed Alfred had completely given up. He was so far gone that he went so far as to scribble on homework. If he hadn't been cought, it probably would have continued. Then there was his break, his cry for help. Alfred had heard about cutting. It seemed like that would send signals to everyone. However, he was too much of a coward to actually cut himself. Instead, a scratch from paperclips sufficed. It was enough for him, even as he lied to a fellow classmate. Two weeks of therapy did nothing for him. He had begged to his school therapist not to tell his parents. All hell would have broken loose if that had gotten to them. Alfred visiting days was reduced to no visiting at all. It felt like it was a waste of time. 6th to 8th grade passed thru the wind. There wasn't really another incident besides him bringing in his Death Note and writing 2 kids name in it as a dare and for his own sick pleasure. He was only in for a day, playing nicey-nice with the same therapist. She was an idiot in his opinion. "How would you feel if this person died?" Yeah, lovely question. Alfred would be dancing on their graves. But he let out a sarcastic comment. "I'd feel really bad," The sarcasm went right over her head. They never visited again.

Once in high school, it felt like things would get better. A fresh start, some new faces, and all around a good year. Wrong. His habits were brought back. The mindset made everything worse. And his lying came back as well. If he missed a homework, he'd say it was home and then copy off someone's during lunch. He fell asleep in classes and never bothered to pay attention. Classes were meant for messing around. No less, the teen was capable of hiding his headphones in class. The ear buds were dragged thru his sleeves so that when he leaned on his elbow, his hand radiated the small noise of music. Just enough for him to hear. He also had a sweatshirt with built in earphones in the pull strings. What Alfred found amusing the most, was that he was able to pass the regents. Thou, not with flying colors. Still, passing was passing.

And that led him to where he was now. A 10th grader on the verge of repeating classes. That's right. No being left back because of Bush's 'No child left behind'. If it wasn't for that, he'd probably still be in 8th grade. Alfred had tried his best. He learned about a school program called CTECH. It was actually interesting for him. Specially the film and post production class. It taught students how to use cameras, editing, and even write a script for movies. He was relatively talented on his own with that things. Having his own YouTube account and probably 5 years worth of practice. The teen wanted to go badly for 11th grade. He tried to get his shit together, but then his grades only seemed to worsen. His attention was always shot to something else. Alfred was convinced he had ADD. Hell, probably even ADHD. He had read the symptoms one time and it seemed to scream him.

Careless mistakes/lack of attention to details.  
Lack of sustained attention.  
Poor listener.  
Failure to follow thru on tasks.  
Poor organization.  
Avoiding tasks requiring sustained mental effort.  
Losing things.  
Easily distracted.  
Forgetful in daily activities.  
Excessive talking.  
Blurting out answers.  
Intrusive.

Yeah. That seemed right. But no one could tell unless he was to get professional help. And if he brought it up with his parents, that he would be a laugh. His parents. Gawd, he loved them. However, more and more he started hating them. If he ever was to bring up the topic of ADD, they'd pass him off as lazy. They'd blame his computer and video games. Sure, his time was spent on there the most. But that was only because a majority of his friends were online, half way across the world. They were the only ones he really talked to. They seemed to understand him the most. If it wasn't for them, he'd probably be dead already.

But back to his parents. They constantly yelled at him. Curse words were the only things that seemed to come from their mouths lately. Constantly, they called him stupid, lazy, fat (Even thou his fast metabolism left him at 110 pounds), and other hurtful words. He had read somewhere that verbal abuse was worse than physical. It seemed true. Words stuck. The whole "Stick and stone will break my bones, but words will never hurt me" was total bull. Calling someone names would forever be engraved in ones mind. Like _their_ words. The more words that were shot at him, the more he became quiet. So quiet, he had become mute. There was no point of talking if no one listened to him. No point if no one believed him. He once confided in his cousin Mattie about his possibility of being bi. That didn't end well. Mattie thought it was a joke and told Alfred's parents. He said he wasn't joking. They yelled at him, telling him he wasn't. That he'd go to hell if he was. But then the subject was dropped, no speaking of it again. Or so Alfred thought. Every time a commercial or ad about gays and such came up, they make jokes about him. It made everything worse. But then he was left reflecting on things. He knew he couldn't be bi or even gay. Not when he was sexually assaulted at such a young age by one of his male cousins. There was no penetration involved, merely soft touching and making Alfred be a 'model', standing in front of the other naked. Even playing with his cousins dick, telling Alfred that he had to pretend it was a joystick. And Alfred was naive and young. He didn't understand. But it got uncomfortable as years went on. Until it just suddenly stopped. He wanted to let out a sigh of relief. But there was no such luck. Once again he was sexually assaulted. Forced thru pier-pressure and not wanting to let anyone down due to obvious reasons with his parents. It was merely a hand job to an upperclassmen that had come over for them to hangout. And yeah, he gave it a lick. Only because of his mindset. He didn't want to disappoint. But once it was over, Alfred felt like burning his hands. He never hated anything so much. Those events seemed to trigger his phobia. So being gay wasn't really possible for him. Those secrets were trapped deep down inside. There were times where he wanted to just tell someone. But he couldn't. The stereotypes would come with his confessions. More words to push him deeper into his depression.

Alfred tried to keep his mind off of their yelling. His gaze returned to his laptop, working on a video for school. What kind of people give projects for the last 2 weeks of school. If anything, they should just be doing nonstop reviewing. Now he was stuck with 4 projects. It was truly ridiculous. Thou... Alfred was really thinking about saying fuck it and not do them. He was going to fail anyways. But knowing his luck, that wouldn't sit well with his parents. So, that left him struggling with his project on the Civil Rights Movement. Stupid English class making him work on History. The sound of feet coming up the stairs made Alfred stop all he was doing. With a load bang, the door was thrown open and his father stepped in. "A 33! A fucking 33! Are you kidding me Alfred?" What a great way to start a conversation. The teen kept himself quiet when really he wanted to scream at his father. Geometry isn't as easy as he thought it was. Learning theroms, memorizing statements and reasons. The class still had to learn 13 more concepts for the regents exam. No way could Alfred remember it all. Not even AIS classes could help. "You and your god damn computer. I'm sick and tired of this. Get off of it already!" Blue eyes glanced at the laptop screen before returning to the man. Alfred shifted his laptop so it faced his dad. The words 'Civil Rights Movement' was shown. "Finish the god damn thing and then get off!" With that, the older man stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut. Alfred flinched before returning to his work. Thou, he was distracted again as he searched on YouTube for related videos. Time ticked away before 10 rolled around. His father slammed a fist on Alfred's door making him flinch. "Get the fuck to sleep!" Alfred typed a quick goodbye to his friends on Skype before turning off his laptop. He changed into pajamas and hopped back into his bed. Thou, sleep refused to take over.

-

It had been several days since Alfred's test grade incident. Nothing really changed since then. The words were still spat at him. He trapped himself more in his room. Being out there was unbearable at times. He was actually doubting them whenever they would say those 3 words. I love you. Yeah, didn't really sound believable anymore. Alfred sat on his bed, staring out his window. They had taken away his laptop and game systems leaving him bored. Thou, thank gawd they didn't take his iPod. That would have done it for him. His iPod had internet so he was able to get on Skype and talk with his friends. So he was slightly content. Still, he wanted his items back. Well, he'd have to suck it up for now. When his parents say a week, they mean a week. And there wasn't really a way Alfred could talk himself thru this. A sigh left his mouth as he turned his attention back to his iPod. No new messages had come from his friends. With another sigh, he laid back in his bed. Well, if there was nothing to do he could at least sleep. That or watch the dogs. But they were fine on their own. Every time his parents went to work and he went to school there was no one home. So it was fine really. His eyelids became heavy. Just as Alfred closed them, the front door was opened and a yell came from his mother. "Alfred Franklin Jones!" Said person shot up from his bed. "I told you to watch the damn dogs! One of them shit in the house!" The teen was frozen. He just sat there, listening to his mother scream at him. "If this happens again so help me, I will shove your face in it!" A small flinch came from him. Despite his mother always saying that, it still got to him. Alfred slowly got up and went to close the door, that way at least her words would be muffled. "If this stains I will kill you!" Blue eyes filled with tears. The door was shut silently as Alfred slid down, suppressing sobs. This wasn't the first time she had threatened him. Third times a charm. His pale fingers dug into the carpet as tears continuously fell, making his vision blurry. Why him? Why was everyone out to get him? He never got a break. Everything went silent for a bit. Alfred managed to pull himself together before opening the door. He peered out the door, listening for anything downstairs.

The sound of a door slamming told Alfred that his mother went back outside. He turned back into his room. That was it. He had to get out of here. It was unbearable. His school backpack was grabbed and the books were thrown onto his bed. In went clothing. His eyes looked around, searching for his wallet. Once the item was found Alfred pulled up his blog page onto his iPod and wrote a quick goodbye to all his followers before throwing his backpack over his shoulder and hurrying downstairs. Alfred went into the kitchen and opened up some pantries. He knew he wouldn't be able to buy to many things with the small amount of money he had. The teen packed Chef Boyardee and other canned foods into his backpack along with some drinks. He pulled out his iPod once more and searched for directions to New York City. He wasn't that far really. An hour or so by car. Once the directions were found, he saved them to his notes before heading out the back door, slipping on an old pair of shoes along the way. Alfred looked back before hurrying thru a neighbors lawn and out to the road. This was his good bye. He'd never see his parents again. Unless he has cought but Alfred wouldn't let that happen.

Pulling out his iPod, he glanced back at the directions before blaring the music. Alfred took one last gaze back before breaking out into a sprint. The sooner he got there, the better. Or so he hoped. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his black beanie hat. Without much thought, he placed it over his wheat colored hair.

It seemed so quiet. There weren't many cars on the road as he ran. But he didn't want to curse his luck so he threw the thoughts away. The sound of his feet hitting the asphalt was in sync with the beats from the song. He watched as houses and trees passed him by. If he kept up this pace, he'd make it to New York before nighttime. Every so often, Alfred would look back. It wouldn't be good if his parents were to find him. If they even bothered to look for him. This would show them he had enough. But they shouldn't complain about his leaving. Either death or running away. Their choice. At least he was still alive. The teen turned the corner on the main street of his town and hurried to the bus station. He wasn't thinking straight. There was a bus that went to New York. It would save him so much more time. Alfred planted himself on the bench and no sooner did the bus come. The machine made a load hiss as it came to a stop before opening its doors to him. He got to his feet and hurried inside. Alfred found himself digging thru his pockets once more, pulling out $2.25 in quarters and placing them into the slot. He then made his way to the middle of the bus and plopped down in one of the seats. His back rested against the window as he sat with his feet on the seats. There was no way he was sharing his seat. Specially not with a man, may the case arise. Blue eyes looked out the window as the bus started back up and his town flew past him. It wasn't easy watching everything fly by. This would probably be the last time he saw it all. A tear slid down his cheek before it was whipped away in a hurry. Gawd, he should have thought this thru. He had no plans. Nothing. Once Alfred got to New York , he was screwed. No one would take him for a job. Well, there was prostitution but that would be the worst idea.

Time ticked away as his destination got closer and closer. The music still blared in his ears. Every so often the bus would jump and rattle, but besides that, the ride was relatively pleasant. And no one bothered him either. So that was a plus.

Blue eyes stared up at the skyscrapers. It felt weird being in the city. Sure, the teen had been here before. But that was only on school trips. To be here, all by himself was intimidating. However, it was worth it. Here was better than _there_. The bus let out a hiss as it came to its last stop. Alfred stood up and adjusted his backpack before getting off the vehicle. Instantly, he was taken in by the rush of New York. Taking a deep breath, the teen tried to keep his cool. It was too many people for him. Unlike his hometown, this was way to busy. He tried his best not to have a panic attack as men of all sizes and ages passed him by. His breathing got ragged before Alfred turned and followed the crowd. Wherever they were going, he was going too. He'd have to find some place to stay while he was here. Obviously, with the money he had, an apartment was out of the question. Maybe Central Park? That could work somehow. Really, all he needed was a place to sleep. So it could work to some extent. All his items would be with him, no leaving them for others to take. As his journey farther into the city, the traffic of people seemed to grow less by every crosswalk he'd pass. A small sigh came from Alfred. He stopped where he was, thou careful not to be in the way of others, and looked around. The park couldn't be that far away could it? Well, he was lost. Might as well ask for directions. Thou... That would be very hard for him. Damn.

Unbeknownst to him, a New York police car had pulled up near him. Inside were two blonde men, one with short hair, the other with shoulder length. "Are you sure there's no school today Angleterre?" The one with shoulder length hair said, his French accent prominent. "Don't take me for a bloody fool frog. I'm positive Memorial Day was yesterday," Without another word, he opened the door and stepped out. The other followed suit. "Hello there. My name is Arthur Kirkland and this is my partner Francis Bonnefoy. We're police officers. Aren't you supposed to be in school," Arthur introduced himself, flashing his badge for proof. The two stood on opposite sides of Alfred, making sure he couldn't escape. They could see panic in his eyes. But no words were exchanged. Alfred could hear his heart beating in his head. He couldn't be cought now. He'd come far. Suddenly, Alfred dashed past Francis, zigzagging thru the crowd of people. "Angleterre, you take the car and cut him off the other side. I'll go on foot," Francis gave the order before hurrying after the other blonde. Arthur wasted no time as he jumped back into the car and sped off, his siren blaring.

Alfred knew the other was following him. His loud footsteps were kind of obvious. But the teen was faster. He would shake him. Hopefully. His body twisted slightly as Alfred dove into a alley. Thankfully, it was open on the other side. He picked up his pace. The teen smirked. He had outran them. Boo-yah. Alfred was so cought up in his internal cheer that he hadn't heard the sirens. Arthur pulled up and blocked his exit. The younger blonde skid to a stop before turning to try and run back the other way. But it was to late. Francis was right behind him. His hands wracked thru wheat hair as he glanced between the two. "Come on, we'll take you to the precinct," Arthur opened the back door and with a sigh, Alfred hopped in. Francis slid over the front of the car as he made his way to the passenger's side. "So, do you have a name?" The car was turned on, but Arthur didn't pull out. Blue eyes glanced between green and violet. The younger of the three didn't say a word. He just stared, his fingers twiddling. "Is there a reason you're not talking to us?" Slowly, he brought both hands up and had it look like his was holding a paper and pen. They moved, imitating writing. Francis cought on to it and searched thru the cars dashboard apartment. He pulled out a pen and handed it to Alfred thru the fence. The teen scribbled something on his hand before showing it. 'I'm mute' was written. Both men nodded in understanding, their mouths open in a silent 'oh'. With that, Arthur put the car in drive and got onto the street.

The ride to the precinct was painfully quiet. For not only the officers, but their passenger as well. Alfred held onto his backpack, staring out the window. His mind was racing. He was screwed. They'd find out who he is and ship him back to his parents. That was something Alfred was trying to avoid. He leaned back and sighed. Great. Just great. Everything really didn't like going his way. He was so cought up in his thoughts, the teen didn't realized they had arrived. Francis opened the door for him and he scooted out. The building felt scary from the outside. Probably because it was his first time ever being to one really. Sure, he had gotten into his fair share of trouble when it came to his pranks. However, this was a whole different story. Alfred bowed his head slightly as he followed behind the two. His hands burrowed into his pockets. This really wasn't good. They led him to an interrogation room and sat Alfred down. He placed his backpack down on the floor and watched them. Francis leaned against the mirror while Arthur sat in front of him, hands clasped together on top of the table. He handed Alfred a pen and paper. "Can you answer some questions for us?" The teen eyed them before taking the pen. 'it depends on the questions'. His handwriting was never the best. But it was readable.

Francis stepped outside of the room and pulled out his cell. He hit the quick-dial for the one number labeled 'Awesomeness'. It rang a few times before a person picked up. "You have reached the awesome Gilbert. How may I help you?" His accent was rich in German. "Bonjour Gilbert. I have a problem that requires your awesome FBI hacking skills," Francis said, emphasizing the word awesome to get the other's attention. "I need you to look up the most recent missing children cases. Someone around the age of 16 maybe, blonde hair, blue eyes." The sound of clicking of a keyboard was heard thru the phone. "I will get back to you soon Prince Frog," With a cackle, Gilbert hung up. Francis sighed, shaking his head as he returned to the room. He stared at the two sitting at the table. Alfred's body image screamed 'terrified'. It was obvious he was some kind of runaway. That backpack looked to packed to have books. "I can't get much out of him Francis." Arthur cut off his thinking. He let out another sigh. "Well, it's getting late. We can't really leave him here." And not with the Juvenile Detention. By the looks of him, he couldn't manage well with something like this. "Can you at least tell us your name?" Arthur tried once more. Alfred let out a sigh before writing 'Al' on the paper. The two adults were at a loss now. They rarely took on the cases of runaways. But when they stared into Alfred's blue eyes, they saw the sadness and torture he's been thru. They didn't want to send him off somewhere else. They wanted to help.

"Why don't one of us take him home and we'll figure it out tomorrow," Arthur suggested. Francis gave a nod before grabbing Alfred's backpack. "I suggest you take him Angleterre. Not only are you better with kids, but I have things planned tonight," The Englishman gave a scoff. He was not good with kids. Only with Peter really. And the only reason the frog wanted him to take Al was because he was probably out screwing someone. All his angry retorts at Francis were left in his head as he stood up and took the backpack. "Right. Well then. Come on Al, we better get a move on," The teen stood up and followed after them once more. He wasn't sure what to do really. His anxieties were getting worse. Take him home? Gawd this was not good. Sure he was a police officer but that still didn't keep _those_ thoughts out of his head. Everything seemed to just pass by in a blur. Alfred was too cought up in his own world. He hadn't noticed him getting in the car. He hadn't noticed the long drive. Nor had he noticed when Arthur led him into the apartment. "I'll go set up your stuff. Make yourself comfortable." With that, the police officer left thru another room. Alfred swallowed dryly before placing his backpack down on the coffee table. He unzipped it and pulled out a can of Chef Boyardee. Alfred was probably a nuisance to the other. Despite being kind of a guest, he'd still provide for himself. He stood where he was, unsure what to do exactly. His mind was still fogged up due to the recent events. But one thing was most prominent; his exhaustion. Arthur came back into the main room, haven gotten changed into something more comfortable and carrying some blankets. "This is for you- Oh. Where did you find that?" He hadn't remembered ever buying such food. Alfred merely pointed to his backpack and everything clicked. So he really was a runaway. Well, the teen was prepared that was for sure. "Here," The took the can and gave Alfred the blankets. "Why don't you go set up while I go make this for you," He only received a nod before the other walked towards the couch. The food was made in minutes before they both sat down and ate in silence. The grandfather clock sitting off towards the side was the only sound heard. Once both were done, the dishes were placed in the sink and the two were left to their own. Well, despite the fact that time had gone so far. It was already 10 at night. "Here's the remote. If you can't fall asleep, at least you're preoccupied. I'll be in my room if you need me." Alfred watched the other leave. Slowly, he sat down on the couch. His backpack was opened once more as he pulled out a pair of pajamas. Without realizing it, Alfred had packed his stuffed animal/alien Tony. A small smile came to his face. He must have subconsciously packed him. The toy meant a lot to him.

The clocked clicked again and again, but Alfred couldn't find himself falling asleep. Nothing was really on the TV. He was tired, yet couldn't sleep. Clutching Tony close to his chest, Alfred made his way to the door Arthur had disappeared behind not long ago. His hands knocked gently on the wooden door before stepping in. Arthur seemed to have had a hard time getting to sleep as well. He sat on his queen-sized bed, reading a book. "Oh Al, what is it you need?" The older blonde grabbed a piece of paper from his side desk along with a pen and handed it to Al. His reading glasses were taken off as he waited for Alfred to write. He noticed the others appearance. The teen was dressed in pajamas and held a stuffed animal. He looked so young. And his eyes held so much in them. Alfred scribbled on the paper before handing it back to Arthur. 'I know this sound weird... But I can't sleep. Can I sleep with you?' His green eyes stared up at Alfred for a bit. "Yeah sure, come on," He pulled open the blankets and watched as Alfred climbed in. He stayed on the very edge of the bed, away from Arthur. Holding back a sigh, Arthur closed his book and placed it on the side table along with his glasses. Turning off the light, he pulled the blankets over them and turned away from Alfred. "Night Al." He said softly before closing his eyes.

Alfred felt weird. He felt... Safe, here with the other. It was so very weird to him. His blue eyes glanced over every so often at the other, waiting for the other to attack him at any moment. But that never happened. Arthur's breath had evened out long ago, telling Alfred he was passed out. Clutching Tony tightly, he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep. Thankfully, he didn't have to wait very long. Sleep consumed him quite quickly.

End Chapter 1.

I made this story for several reasons. One, to possibly tell any of my watchers who is going thru with something like what I had been thru, that they are not alone. Two, to tell my watchers that life isn't so easy for me and because of it my stories will be written slower. Hopefully not as slow as Tangle's .

This isn't a major story like Misguided Grudge. I won't work on this as much as MG. So if you plan on watching, be patient. Also, please, no flaming. I put myself out here to try and help others. Kinda. I have to struggle with this kind of things constantly. I'd appreciate it if you could think before you talk. How would you feel if it was your words that send someone to commit suicide? Just saying.

~Bright.


End file.
